From cramped to roofless
——-I became—I don’t know how—
————–an open-air temple with no pillars.
My walls of stone, lichen-covered,
where many feet came to pray.
——-The willows shook around me
————–as mice and small insects
knelt in moonlight, I could feel
the breath of many spirits
——-winging through my chamber:
————–rabbis dropping pocket lint—
specks of letters their devotional
thumbs rubbed off prayers—
——-peppered the air. As lithe women
————–led the service of dancing
I saw the specks drifting
into place, magnetized into
————–Aleinu wafting in air.
And I arose within my life and bowed.
The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.